


falling star

by 143 (1432)



Series: cosmic love [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Depictions of Distress, Heavy Angst, Legalized Prostitution, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 13:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5709145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1432/pseuds/143
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes. I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it’s left me blind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	falling star

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: First things first, I must thank all the people that put up with me teasing them with snippets here and there, for encouraging me, and caring for my well-being when I worked on this while being sick (p.s. I am better now). thank you, s, w, and beta ph.

Junmyeon wakes to the sound of an alarm ringing and drool gluing his face to his tablet, screen black and work gone. His back aches from sleeping hunched over his desk, but he’s quickly on his feet, the sleeping tablet abandoned on the tabletop.

It’s his new routine, now, to rush to work; to run around the house, tugging clothes on and shoving his shoes onto his feet, his stomach empty. He wakes in a panicked shock, feeling overwhelmed with the thought of showing up to work late. Yet, it’s only ten minutes later that he’s hurrying out the door, heaving a bag filled with various portfolios onto his shoulder.

Before, he could use the excuse of the city’s shoddy transportation system, but now that his own train designs are in use, it wouldn’t do any good.

The train. His train. No matter how many times he saw it—rode it—he could still hardly believe his design was picked; out of all the others his design was the best.

On the train, he watches the buildings pass by, if one were to blink they might miss it all. The river reflects shades of red and orange in the morning sun, but he’s got barely any time to observe it before they’ve passed over. The station they pull into is a dark grey dome that matches the skyscrapers around it in color, but contrasts in shape. People rush out, but Junmyeon takes his time getting off, lingers to watch it fill again before taking off to the next destinations.

He turns and sighs; his day is only beginning.

 

 

Baekhyun sits across from Junmyeon, snickering, as he drags out the lines of tracks with his stylus.

“Next time why don’t you try sleeping in your bed? You can’t lose your layouts that way.”

He probably thinks he’s being clever, funny even, but Junmyeon only becomes annoyed with him. Looking above the wire rim of his glasses, Junmyeon gives him the most annoyed look he can muster up and Baekhyun stops talking and turns serious.

"Don’t forget the budget,” he reminds Junmyeon, pushing out a portfolio with the city’s information. From it, he pulls several papers; covered in numbers and requests. “You still have to have enough to build the train itself. Their head of city transportation is trying to rush, he says you need to move faster, but Minseok handled it.”

Junmyeon looks up from his tracks again and Baekhyun’s staring off, eyes blissfully empty and, to bring Baekhyun out of his reverie, he clears his throat awkwardly.

“You’re doing it again.”

"Doing what?”

“Thinking about our boss in unprofessional ways.” He looks back down to the layout and sketches track lines over it, glances down to the details box—too expensive, too many resources used for one track—and then he deletes them.

Apparently, Baekhyun is not pleased with his observation and he huffs, plops back down in the chair.

"And you don’t?”

Junmyeon looks up, shocked, laughing at his words. It was Minseok that chose his idea, saw the good in it, and had offered him the job.

"Of course not. He’s my boss. How could I think of him that way?” Baekhyun opens his mouth, probably to answer truthfully and Junmyeon changes his mind. “Don’t tell me, I’m actually not that interested.”

He’s snickering again, but moving to leave, lifting his blazer up from the back of the chair and tugging it on.

"Just remember the budget, try to get these prints done by the end of the day. I have boring things to go do.”

"Have fun number crunching,” Junmyeon adds distractedly, eyes scanning the papers sprawled across his desk now.

 

 

“Let me see the layouts.” Baekhyun reaches across Junmyeon’s desk for the tablet and stylus.

Reacting quickly, Junmyeon swipes them up, away from his greasy fingers. He motions wildly to container of food in front of Baekhyun and the napkin pinned down beneath it.

"Keep your grease off my things.”

Baekhyun scoffs, playing insulted, but still cleans his fingers the best he can with the napkin. He holds out his hand and waits for a few moments before Junmyeon reluctantly hands the device over.

"Eat,” he insists, pushing the container forward. “I’ll look over these.”

Junmyeon does eat, but very slowly, and he watches Baekhyun scan over the designs, tapping at the screen and sorting through the layouts. Some, Junmyeon knows, are deleted and Baekhyun offers the tablet to Junmyeon again.

"These are affordable.” He immediately picks up his utensils again. The accountant is pushing it, but Junmyeon knows the layouts are worthless if not in the budget and he keeps himself from becoming too angry.

The designs he chose are good though, each a perfect system of lines, some tracks crossing over and beneath others. Like the ones in the city, stations are shaped like domes, fitted into accommodating areas; the head of the Living District and the middle of the Working District. Satisfied, he saves them, sends them to Minseok to be finally revised and sent away. He brings up the next layouts and sighs.

“I should get started on these.” He pushes the food away in favor of the tablet.

Later, when he’s almost done with the first of many track designs, Minseok stops by, but he doesn’t acknowledge his boss right away. He lets Baekhyun take the attention until he’s finished the last line and he watches Baekhyun feed Minseok, insisting he’d made the food himself. Junmyeon hopes, if he had actually made it, their boss doesn’t die of food poisoning.

“Junmyeon, how long will it take you to get these cities’ designs out? Everyone is rushing to get faster and better transportation.”

He looks down to the design in front of him and he scans over the others. If Baekhyun had asked, he would’ve shrugged, but he can’t do that to Minseok, so he looks up and answers: “There’s three cities, I’ll make about four different layouts for their board to choose from. I will be finished with all the designs by the end of the week.”

“That should please them. Each board knew that the time was virtually unpredictable, they came to me complaining, so I reminded them and I politely suggested they see doctors to check for hearing problems.” At this, Baekhyun laughs too enthusiastically and Minseok looks down to him, flashing a smug smirk, but it’s gone soon after.

Minseok excuses himself to finish his work after that.

Baekhyun turns in his seat to watch Minseok start for the door. When Minseok reaches the door, he looks back, but he doesn’t say anything and Baekhyun turns around with a red face.

"Very subtle, Baek. I don’t think he realized your intentions when you were shoving food down his throat and your hand in his mouth.”

“Shut up, old man.”

Junmyeon scoffs, “You’re not supposed date co-workers or bosses.”

"You’re so boring, haven’t you done something bad once? I prefer to live in the moment, you should try it sometime.”

"No, thank you. And I’d prefer to get my work done.”

Baekhyun stands abruptly and starts for the door, food container in hand, grumbling under his breath.

 

 

Stylus in hand, Junmyeon is concentrated on his work. The tracks are drawn out easily and the domes with them, the price in the corner steadily growing, the resource number slowly decreasing.

"Remember yesterday when we were talking about how boring and stuffy you are?” Baekhyun asks, looking out the window, down to the other buildings below.

Junmyeon doesn’t even look up at him. “I remember you saying it, but I don’t remember conversing on the topic.”

One of four main tracks is drawn out from the main station in the city’s Working District, a few tracks break off from the sides, lead to other stations in different districts.

Now Baekhyun sits in front of him and he snaps his fingers to get Junmyeon’s attention. He slams his hand down on the desk and when he raises it, a black card is there, silver writing printed pretty across its plastic surface.

“Am I supposed to know what this is?” Junmyeon asks, confused until he picks it up and examines it closely. He then recognizes it as a dark card. “Why would you buy me this? I have no reason to go to a dark room.”

Dark Rooms. A result of a rise in prostitution in the capital. They are wildly popular. And other cities, taking on the capital’s improvements, also took them up. The workers—pleasure assistants—were not looked down upon any longer, they were paid highly and kept safe.

Now they are so common throughout the country, that there are Dark Districts all over, neat buildings lining the streets where hour-long pleasure can be bought and spent under the bright blues and reds of lights.

It wasn’t cheap, especially not in the capital city.

"Baekhyun, this is expensive. It’s too expensive. You shouldn’t have done this, I probably won’t even go.”

Baekhyun crosses his arm and raises a brow. “Things are different now, you know that. These things aren’t shameful anymore, Junmyeon. You should go.”

"Should I?”

 

 

The streets here are lit dimly like the insides of the buildings, shades of red and green and purple painting the concrete beneath everyone’s feet. The streets are also crowded, both men and women clotting entrances. And hanging on the arms of some of those men and women are others, paying extra to join in, to watch.

Junmyeon reads the signs as he passes, looking for the Dark House matching the name on his access card.

The building he finds is big, multiple stories like others in this area, and he pauses for a moment to breathe, calm his nerves. The inside is vaguely furnished, there are a few decorative tables against bare walls, vases of dark red flowers that Junmyeon doesn’t recognize. Situated against the forward wall is a long desk, where several men and women sit behind computers, checking ID’s and helpfully pointing customers to different doors.

He waits behind a woman, a man at her side and he looks up to Junmyeon, eyes round and wide. She sees though and she slips a finger under the collar situated around the man’s neck, gives it a tug and hisses a warning. Apologizing in a hushed tone, the man bows and he turns back to the woman, eyes down and his head resting on her shoulder.

That was nothing Junmyeon expected to see and he watches as the pair are pointed to a door.

"Your ID?” A woman asks, giving him an impatient look and he glances down to the cards in his hand. Eventually though, she takes the cards from him and views them over. “First time here?”

Junmyeon nods, answers without a word as he’s too busy looking around. He hears her chuckle and he almost feels offended, but he can’t bring himself to.

“Go through that door.” She points to the same one the woman and collared man had gone into. “Take the elevator to the third floor, it’s the fourth left room, scan the card and go in.”

He’s dumbfounded and he answers with a nod again; she laughs again.

As he walks through the halls, he realizes that it’s also dark, dimmed fluorescent lights lining the ceiling. Above each door frame, a plaque hangs and numbers glow bright on each.

Then it’s there; a four is lit on the plaque to his left. His breath quickens and his chest becomes tight with panic and anticipation. Still he raises the card, swipes it across the little screen with shaking hands. He has to do it twice more before it reads and accepts the card and there’s an audible click of a lock.

It’s easier to walk passed the door, to swallow down his fear and pretend his skin doesn’t tingle with nervous anticipation. But there is no one inside to hide his nerves from.

The room is dark, despite the brightly colored lights, but he’s sure no one is here. He finds a seat at the foot of the bed (only after making sure it’s clean) and he takes in his surroundings. There’s a dresser to his left, pushed against the wall and at the head of the bed there’s a small table. It’s practically empty, nothing like what Junmyeon was expecting.

In front of him is a door, opposite to the one he walked in from, a bright red light shining from above it. He assumes that is where the pleasure assistant will walk in from.

He’s growing impatient waiting here, his skin buzzing; and he’s just about to stand and leave when the light above the door in front of him dims, leaves the room mostly blue. The door opens.

The man across the room is perfectly shielded in the dark, colored lights cast soft blue and red across his cheeks, meet at his bare chest in a mix purple.

“What can I do for you?” The man asks and Junmyeon startles as he begins walking closer. At Junmyeon’s feet, he kneels, rests his head against Junmyeon’s thigh. “Daddy.”

The words are velvet, but they plug Junmyeon’s ears like cotton. (He’s going to kill Baekhyun for this.) His breath catches in his throat and the other man seems to notice his shock, he raises his head and looks up. However, he lowers his eyes again when Junmyeon touches his cheek with only a skim of a few fingers.

“Please, stand up.”

Junmyeon wonders if he stares because he is nervous; eventually though he stands to his feet and Junmyeon pauses before reaching for him.

"Can I?” He asks, hands hovering between them. And the assistant nods, takes him by the wrists and brings his hands forward to rest on his hips.

The first press of lips is soft, pressed just above his belly button and the man gasps in faint shock. Junmyeon kisses the soft rise of a rib and again on the one above it.

"Your name?” Junmyeon asks, mouth against his nipple and the man jerks.

Shuddering, he whines his own name, "Chen.”

Junmyeon envelops the nipple he’d teased before and he sucks hard, grazes his teeth against it until he brings a cry from Chen. He pulls Chen forward to stand between his legs, but, once he has, he draws back to look him over; he lingers too long on the stars tattooed over his heart.

“Please,” he whispers and Junmyeon pauses. Though he’s somewhat stunned by the pleasure assistant’s pleading, he leans in and kisses an ink star, then another and another until he can’t go farther up without standing.

Thin fingers skim down, undo the buttons of Junmyeon’s shirt and he lets it slide off his arms and land on the edge of the bed.

“Get on the bed,” Junmyeon whispers and even to his own ears it sounds strained and awkward; Chen says nothing though, only hurries onto the bed and reaches over to dig in the bedside table.

When he’s naked, Junmyeon eases up the bed, pauses when he’s level with Chen’s hips and he dips down to kiss Chen’s half hard cock. Chen shudders and reaches down to hold Junmyeon’s face, curls his fingers under the other man’s jaw and pulls gently as Junmyeon suckles the tip, his tongue rubbing the underside.

His legs fall open easy, Junmyeon slides his hands up Chen’s thighs, teases the insides with coy swipes of his thumbs. A shaky hand reaches down and offers a bottle of lube and Junmyeon takes time to slick his fingers. There’s a resounding whimper when he presses the first finger to Chen’s rim, and a mangled moan when he presses it in slow.

He crumbles under Junmyeon’s touch, asks timidly for another finger and another. And Junmyeon follows his words, presses gentle kisses to the insides of his thighs as he stretches him.

"It’s our policy,” Chen mumbles, rolling a condom down the length of Junmyeon’s cock; he’s thankful that Chen can’t see his face turn red.

Chen’s face pinches in the most beautiful way when Junmyeon thrusts in, he grabs for Junmyeon, holds onto him tight. And Junmyeon hides his face in Chen’s neck, kisses him without bruising his skin.

He fucks into him slow at first, cautious in his movements until Chen’s nails are raising lines down his back. The hold does not relax, the nails do not move from the small of his back.

Becoming more brave, he grips Chen’s thigh pulls him into his thrusts until Chen’s crying a mantra of, yes, yes, yes.

Junmyeon’s teeth just barely bite across Chen’s collarbone, and Junmyeon’s hot breath fans over the stars on his heart. He shakes under Junmyeon and he can’t help but to try to get closer to Chen, try to hear him whisper quiet praise, asking Junmyeon not to stop.

Pleasure mounts fast, leaves no time to drag it out and make it last. Junmyeon comes groaning Chen’s name, holding him tight and thrusting deep. Dull nails are replaced with a soothing touch and Chen kisses his neck, hips grinding up out of instinct, seeking friction.

Junmyeon stands up on his knees and he’s taken aback by how ruined he looks. Lying against his stomach, his cock is still hard and leaking; his fingers twitch to wrap around it, but he looks up to Junmyeon first.

"Please. Wasn’t I good?” Chen whispers and Junmyeon answers yes because how can he leave him this way.

Junmyeon kneels between Chen’s legs, kisses the base of his cock as he whimpers, trembles with self- control. He grows louder when Junmyeon’s sucked him halfway down, unforgiving as he sucks hard. Shaking hands take hold of Junmyeon’s hair and tug, but he doesn’t lift his mouth off of him, swallows him down with no complaints.

He wants to glance up when Chen comes down his throat, but he doesn’t as he concentrates on the cock in his mouth. He does hear Chen groan though, surprisingly deep and unrestrained.

"You… You shouldn’t have done that.” Chen’s voice wobbles.

"There’s no reason not to, I want you to feel good too.” He moves up to lay at Chen’s side, watches him catch his breath.

"We’re supposed to use condoms, even for that. It’s against our policy.”

Junmyeon flounders. “I’m sorry.”

Though Chen says nothing.

Shortly after, Chen wraps his short fingers loosely around Junmyeon’s cock, attempts to stroke him. But Junmyeon grabs his wrist, hears Chen gasp, and he tugs it away gently.

"Too soon,” he whispers, voice strained with sensitivity. Chen nods, turns onto his side. He seems unsure of what to do with his hands, as he leaves a hand on the inside of Junmyeon’s thigh, but it’s not entirely unpleasant.

It’s an easy moment of silence, it fills in the empty stretch between them.

"Can I know your name?”

Junmyeon smiles because of his tone. He wonders if he’s really this way or only playing his part as a pleasure assistant.

He says it easily, reaches down and lets his fingers brush his wrist. “Junmyeon.”

Chen makes a noise in his throat and nods, repeats Junmyeon’s name in a low whisper.

He doesn’t say it like a stranger’s name, it sounds like something he is familiar with, something he’s comfortable saying.

"Chen,” Junmyeon whispers and he looks up with timid eyes.

Junmyeon pinches his chin between his thumb and first finger, angles his head up and kisses him. The hand on Junmyeon’s thigh starts to shake and he reaches down and rubs circles into the back of it.

The shaking ceases.

 

 

Junmyeon idles in front of the window. His building is one of the tallest skyscrapers, it towers over others, lets him see well into other districts.

On the other side of the river is the Living District, houses pressed close together and barely more than dots from where he stands. Even the apartment buildings, several stories high, are strangely dwarfed. Past that, he can see the Dark District—during the day, the Dead District.

It’s too far to truly see but he knows it is empty; knows it’ll be empty well until dusk falls. Then the workers will fill the street, hurry into their buildings and customers will follow, will fill the streets and struggle to get around in the dark, lit up only by red, purple, and blue lights.

He wonders if Chen will be working tonight.

"Who’s Chen?”

Baekhyun startles him out of his thoughts. He’s suddenly aware of Baekhyun’s presence and having said that out loud.

When he turns, he sees that Baekhyun is slumped in one of the leather chairs; his blazer is on the other chair and the top buttons of his shirt are undone, tie loose around his neck. His hair is messy and he messes it up further by running a hand through it.

"Hopefully Minseok doesn’t stop by and catch you looking so unprofessional and disheveled.”

Baekhyun snorts. “Don’t change the subject. Chen?”

He leans against his desk and sighs, studies the tips of his fancy (overpriced) shoes.

"Chen is the name of the man I saw last night. Also, watch your back and don’t try to pretend to be clueless, you know what you did.”

In the most unattractive way, Baekhyun’s face screws up and he howls with laughter until he’s wheezing to catch his breath. Junmyeon scowls at him until he composes himself.

"It’s a fake name though, they don’t give out real names.”

Junmyeon looks out the window again, nods.

 

 

Junmyeon sits in the dark of his apartment, drink in hand as the last of the sun’s rays turn his blue curtains purple.

Later, when he’s standing outside on his balcony, he looks at the sky and he thinks of Chen with each star that shines in the sky.

He doesn’t work on his designs.

 

 

“You’re acting so much differently.”

Junmyeon shakes free of his thoughts. The name Chen is written across the layout, the resources are used up and above it the money is in red numbers. He restarts, traces the stylus over the tablet until it is how he had it before scribbling over it.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t you have work?”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “You just wrote Chen across the design you’ve been working on. This isn’t exactly normal.”

He avoids further confrontation. "If you roll your eyes enough they’ll eventually roll out of your head.”

The last few lines of the tracks are drawn in and Junmyeon saves it, pushes the tablet forward out of frustration. Surprisingly, Baekhyun doesn’t say anything, he only picks the table up and begins sorting through the track designs.

"I can’t concentrate, he’s on my mind. I wish I could just…”

He doesn’t finish what he was going to say because he knows it was stupid to even think. Baekhyun doesn’t help any.

"You’ll never see him again. You never get the same person twice, not with the inconsistent rotations in each dark house.”

Junmyeon curls his fingers around the edge of his desk, squeezes, so he doesn’t step forward and curl them around Baekhyun’s neck. There’s a visible change in Baekhyun, his features soften and he looks out the window.

"I’m sorry. I should go, Minseok has new numbers for me.” He collects his things and leaves Junmyeon with an apologetic smile.

 

 

The stylus rolls slowly off the table and Junmyeon hardly notices when it hits the floor.

Minseok clears his throat and Junmyeon watches his boss reach down and pick up, put it on his desk. A ring of midnight blue peeks out from beneath Minseok’s cuff and Junmyeon reaches for his hand, concerned, but he stops, remembers his position.

"You said you would be finished with the designs, but you still have two more cities to draw for. They grow more impatient as the minutes go by.” He settles into one of the chairs, props his right foot on his left knee. “Maybe we could get someone to help you with them? I know you’ve rejected the idea before, but we could hire interns.”

Interns. The idea annoys Junmyeon and he immediately shakes his head. He takes up the stylus again, begins lining another layout.

Across from him, Minseok rubs his jaw thoughtfully. “You’re so distracted lately and you’re going to need help soon anyway.”

Pushing the tablet away, Junmyeon looks up and Minseok looks away from the window to him.

"Baekhyun told me,” he starts and then continues when Junmyeon raises a brow, “About Chen.”

"It’s nothing.” Junmyeon pinches the bridge of his nose.

Minseok nods, stands, crosses the room slowly. He pauses in front of the door, hand lingering on the doorknob. "Just take care of your distraction.”

Interns.

 

 

The moon hangs high in the sky, but it’s the stars that wake Junmyeon. It’s the thinly outlined, hollow stars drawn on Chen’s chest in his dreams that wakes him.

His eyes sting under the torture of the electronic light and he rubs at them until he can finally open them past squinting.

He thinks in different shades of Chen, Chen, Chen. He types in different tones of worry, weakness, want.

There’s an ad that catches his eye and he clicks it, delirious with sleeplessness.

 

 

The young man, Chanyeol, pushes his lensless glasses up his nose, adjusts his bag on his shoulder as he walks into Junmyeon’s apartment. He looks up, then to his left and his right, he whispers wow in a voice deeper than Junmyeon expected.

Judging from the look on his face, and the faded color of his jeans and hoodie, Junmyeon decides he’s not been to this side of the Living District many times. He hurries him inside.

"I need you to hack into the computer systems of a Dark House.” He pushes the, now useless, black card to the center of the coffee table between them, logo side up.

Chanyeol picks up the card, inspects it and then places it down again.

"Is it doable?”

“Yeah, it is.” Chanyeol nods, lips curved up in a little smile. Junmyeon still isn’t used that voice. “I’ve never hacked into a Dark House though, it could take a while.”

The hacker’s smile turns into a grin.

Junmyeon sighs.

Hacker.

 

 

Baekhyun sits across from Junmyeon, laughing into the back of his hand. By now, Junmyeon has come to hate the sound of him stifling laughter and would rather him bark and wheeze with it. He’s calming now though.

"You hired a hacker?”

Junmyeon nods his head.

"You must really want him,” Baekhyun whispers, almost too low for Junmyeon to hear.

But he does hear and he stands and crosses the room to the window, looks up at the darkening sky. Stars twinkle already, one or two dotted in the sky and he smiles.

"You have no idea. There’s some pull, I can’t stop thinking about him. I want him to be mine.”

There’s a chuckle from behind him. It’s still Baekhyun, but it’s far more calm than before.

"Now you know how I feel.”

"Chen isn’t my boss.”

"Doesn’t matter, still feels the same.”

 

 

The train is quiet and shades of blue and red flash behind Junmyeon’s eyelids. He thinks in the color of purple and the sound of Chen’s harsh breaths, the feel of him falling apart.

 

 

Chanyeol is very quiet the next time he returns, holding up a black flash drive pinched between his fingers. There are rings of exhaustion under his eyes, Junmyeon notices when he finally brushes his hair out of his face. He holds the little device out to Junmyeon.

“How many weeks are on this?”

"Two,” he answers and before Junmyeon can say anything else, he continues, “That was all there was. The new month’s schedule hasn’t been made yet.”

Junmyeon lips curl down in a frown. Two weeks isn’t enough. But he doesn’t complain; he pays Chanyeol and gives him a nudge out, tells him to go home and get some sleep.

 

 

The streets light up in warm colors, red and yellow and orange, all dim. People rush through the crowded streets, eyes down on the ground or to their partner clinging to them.

Junmyeon breathes deep outside the Dark House, takes the smallest steps he can until he’s inside the dark front room, anticipation and worry gnawing his guts. It’s as it was last time and Junmyeon feels oddly familiar with it.

"Preference?” A woman asks and Junmyeon stammers awkwardly. She laughs at him, very quietly, but she sobers before she continues, “I mean, would you prefer men or women tonight?”

“Oh, men.”

In front of him, there’s a screen that lights up, unlike the last time when his card was set to a room already. The woman explains to him what to do, explains their conditions and policies as she scans his ID. He knows what room he wants, but he scans over the available rooms anyway. Beneath each room number, there’s a list of words, most of which Junmyeon doesn’t even know.

"Under the numbers are the kinks accepted by the pleasure assistant working in that room. To choose you only have to press one.” She is patient, overlooks his awkwardness and guides him through the process of getting the key.

The key prints out from a little machine sitting at her side on the desk and when it’s done and in his hand, she points him to the doorway he’d went through last time. His heart beats strong against his sternum.

The scanner beeps, the lock clicks and Junmyeon walks into the room, sits on the bed. He waits patiently, fingers clasped together until the red light above the assistant’s door dims. He slides his palms down his thighs when the door opens.

Junmyeon takes in a deep breath, holds it until his fingertips throb and the man begins walking forward.

"Oh, I’m so hot, daddy. Tell me what to do.”

Chen sits at Junmyeon’s feet, knees tucked under his body, and he looks down at his lap. He had asked for words, but Junmyeon says nothing; he cradles Chen’s cheek, leans down and kisses the top of his head.

"Look at me, Chen.”

He flinches when he does look up and he briefly leans away from Junmyeon’s touch.

"Tell me what to do, please,” Chen whispers, reining in composure. That was not exactly what Junmyeon had expected.

Junmyeon sighs, drops his hand away from Chen’s cheek. He falls back on the bed, reaches down and cradles the back of Chen’s head when he rests it on Junmyeon’s knee. Familiarity scorches the tips of his fingers, burns up his veins slowly.

"I have never seen any of my customers twice before.”

Junmyeon raises his head and looks down. “Come up here, lie with me for a while.”

Still with his head against Junmyeon’s knee, Chen shakes his head. He kisses the soft skin of Junmyeon’s wrist and his breath catches in his throat.

"No, just tell me what you want. I will still be good for you.”

With hands settled on Junmyeon’s knees the pressure assistant presses his legs apart, sits between them. Chen mouths up Junmyeon’s clothed thigh, but this is not what he wants from him.

Junmyeon tangles his fingers in Chen’s curly hair, gives him a light tug until he lifts his head; he whines from somewhere deep in his throat, but Junmyeon ignores it. One of Chen’s hands come up, touch the back of his wrist.

"What I want is for you to come up here and lie beside me.”

Fingertips press gently into the back of his wrist, Chen whines, face twisted with something unreadable in the dark.

Up in the bed, Junmyeon can see him better, can see the way his face pinches with discomfort. That’s not what Junmyeon intended to do. He presses one of the delicately drawn stars and feels the young man tense, hears his breath lose rhythm.

“Do they mean something?”

Chen nods. “I want to be more like the stars, so I had them done earlier this year.”

Junmyeon looks up to Chen and Chen looks away, looks to the wall, anywhere but Junmyeon.

“Why are you doing this? Why are we only laying here? You spent a lot of money for this.” Chen rambles, voice hushed.

Still with his fingers pressed to Chen’s chest, Junmyeon idles. He leans forward and presses his mouth to a star, then another and another. Talking like this is hard for Junmyeon, it’s complicated but this is easy to him; it’s easy to kiss Chen’s chest, to hear him gasp, easy to feel Chen’s hands grab his shirt.

Chen pulls him closer. The stars begin to burn Junmyeon’s mouth and he is the one that gasps now, pulls away. Chen looks down at him, whines quiet and restrained.

With a hand in his hair, Junmyeon pulls him down, kisses his mouth until his own lips are sore.

"I don’t need anything more than to just lay here with you.” Junmyeon says, lips kiss bruised and swollen.

Chen becomes uncomfortable again, his brow furrows and instead of only being there, he settles his knees on along Junmyeon’s hips. He’s impatient, kisses Junmyeon as he slides his fingers up under Junmyeon’s sweater.

"You’re here to feel good. And I’m here to make you feel good. Let me.”

Junmyeon becomes pliant beneath Chen, lets Chen hurry to strip him, doesn’t mind that he’s tossing expensive clothes to the floor. He holds Chen’s thighs as he continues to flit about, one arm twisted behind his back and the other braced on Junmyeon’s shoulder for balance.

When Chen sinks down on Junmyeon’s cock, he groans, falls limp and Junmyeon wraps an arm around Chen’s thin waist. Junmyeon wishes to hold him this way, to merely have him in his arms. But Chen raises his hips, drops them down hard, he rides Junmyeon with earnest until he’s breathless.

Junmyeon helps him when he tires, thrusts up until he’s coming, gasping against Chen’s skin. All is well again; Chen relaxes, moves out of Junmyeon’s lap, but when he returns to Junmyeon’s side he whispers quiet, dirty things.

“Chen.” Junmyeon says, falls back on the bed. He looks perfectly content to lay there, cock hard and flushed against the pale skin of his stomach.

His resolve crumbles as Junmyeon closes his fingers around the base and squeezes gently. He arches up and Junmyeon is glad to give, props himself up on his side and kisses Chen’s chest until he’s crying into the blue air. Junmyeon rests his cheek on Chen’s bony shoulder, watches the bliss fade slow.

"Is there something I can clean you up with?”

Chen says nothing only takes the far corner of the sheet and wipes his stomach clean. Noticing Junmyeon’s reaction, he settles under the thin sheet, lies on the too soft pillow, and he explains, “The sheets will be replaced after our session, so it doesn’t matter.”

"So these rooms really are kept clean?”

"Well you’re not laying on sheets fully soaked in bodily fluids now, are you?” His tone instantly changes and he becomes meek again, shrinks some. “Inspectors come, they check to make sure the rooms are properly stocked and cleaned. They also make sure the workers aren’t being mistreated.”

Junmyeon turns onto his side to face Chen and he sees him shrink more until the sheet is up over his mouth.

"Its nice to know that.”

Nothing else is said for a while. Chen looks down, closes his eyes for some time before they snap open and he apologizes in a rushed whisper. He reaches out and lets his fingertips brush Junmyeon’s softened cock, raises questioning eyes, but Junmyeon takes gentle hold of his wrist and shakes his head.

"Sleep if you want.”

Junmyeon finishes the designs he was working on.

When he brings them in Minseok smiles and thanks him, he then transfers the next city’s layouts to him and asks him to be finished with them soon. He is passive, but Baekhyun is not.

"You’re different. What happened?”

"I saw him again. Chen ” Junmyeon says, being sure to keep the smile out of his voice and off his face.

Plopping down in a chair, Baekhyun grins, props himself up and waits for more. Junmyeon says nothing though, and Baekhyun asks what happened.

"It was a dark room. The usual happened and we talked, he slept for a while.”

Baekhyun screws his face up. “He slept? I didn’t know you were that kind of person, Myeon.”

“I’m not. Get out, we both have work to do.”

Sighing and grumbling, Baekhyun collects his things and starts for the door. And Junmyeon has peace. At least, until he returns at lunch to give him the final budget numbers and to look over the designs he had done.

 

 

That night, he dreams in galaxies. Stars dyed blue and red, and purple between them. He dreams in the sound of Chen’s moans and cries of pleasure. He dreams until he almost thinks it’s real.

 

 

"Command me,” Chen offers, on his knees, his hands behind his back.

Junmyeon cradles his cheek, tilts his face up so he can kiss his lips. At first Chen flinches away from the touch, but, then, he gives in to the familiarity of it.

"Chen,” Junmyeon whispers. With his breath caught, stuck, in his throat, he looks up wide eyed, beyond shocked.

"How are you doing this? Why are you doing this?”

For once, Junmyeon has no answer to give him. Silence falls and settles around them as muted purple light, barely enough to see.

"Because I want you.”

Chen stands to his feet and walks closer to the lights a long the wall; his skin shows a redder tone than before, when he had been nearer to the blue. Even in the dim light, Junmyeon can see him shake.

"Everyone wants me.” His voice is still meek. “That’s the point of me being here.”

Junmyeon rephrases, “I want to know you.”

Although Junmyeon thought Chen would be happy, curious at least, he is not. Chen returns to Junmyeon’s side and kisses him, fisting his shirt and pulling him close. He’s fumbling with Junmyeon’s fly when they part and Junmyeon grabs his hands, stops him with a whispered no.

Chen’s brow furrows and he falls submissive, looks down to his feet.

"What are you doing?”

“You don’t want to know me. You want to press me into the mattress. You want to fuck me.” Junmyeon shakes his head, stands to his feet. Chen falls to his knees again.

False bravado drowned out, Junmyeon becomes nervous. He kneels in front of Chen, tries to read him, but shutters are closed and locked behind his eyes. Chen leans forward, hides his face in the crook of Junmyeon’s neck, asks why, why, why?

But Junmyeon has no answer for him.

 

 

The distraction has returned.

Junmyeon finds himself standing in front of the wall-length window of his office; eyes on the Dark District, thoughts on Chen. His designs are delayed.

Three days into the work week, a young man, Tao, appears in his office. He looks nervous, despite his fierce eyes, his knuckles white as he clenches the tablet in his hands too tightly.

"I was told to come here. The boss said you’d handle getting the layouts onto the tablet.” Like when he’d previously introduced himself, he stammers over some words, rocks on his heels. For a split second, Junmyeon considers turning him away, but he holds out his hand for the tablet.

It’s the first time he’s accepted help since starting at the company.

Tao’s hands shake as he places the tablet into Junmyeon’s, but he seems to relax once Junmyeon gives him a small smile and returns the tablet to him.

"Take a seat and get to work.”

Falling back into the chair, Tao calms fully and he grins like a cat, promising to do good. Junmyeon smirks at his sudden enthusiasm and watches him eagerly begin to pencil in tracks with the stylus.

"Don’t worry about perfection.”

On his break, Junmyeon watches Tao continue to work, tongue between his teeth in concentration. Baekhyun stops by later and he leans over the intern’s shoulder and gives him quiet tips as if it was him that went to school to study architecture and engineering.

 

 

Junmyeon drinks wine straight from the bottle, bypassing his fancy glasses, and walks to the dinner table. He stares at the dates on the screen of his laptop in front of him, thinks about seeing Chen, not just spending himself against Chen’s body, but talking to him, learning him as a person.

The longer he looks at them—the longer he thinks about Chen—the more his stomach twists with worry.

It falls and roots itself deep into the crevices of his bones.

 

 

This time, when Chen steps into the room, he is wary. He steps silently into the room, eyes on the ground until the blue light has dimmed and left them in only soft pink. Upon seeing Junmyeon, he stops walking closer, keeps a meter between them.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

In the back of his mind, Junmyeon wonders if Chen’s cheeks color with the words or if he’s too used to it by now.

"No, I’m not going to. I want you to lie beside me. I’d like for you to talk to me, but if you want you can just rest,” Junmyeon offers.

And he sees Chen crumple in some, watches him half stumble to the edge of the bed before he sits. He fidgets with the sheet, picks at it with his fingers as he looks up slowly to Junmyeon. The look he gives Junmyeon is sinful, but Junmyeon’s stubborn and does nothing even when the urge to kiss Chen arises.

Taking matters into his own hands, Chen crawls up from the foot of the bed and fits his thighs alongside Junmyeon’s hips. He rocks forward, rolls his hips down into Junmyeon’s, groans; Junmyeon knows it’s for show.

After that, Chen’s groans are only out of frustration, he flops down at Junmyeon’s side, angry eyes on the ceiling.

"Don’t do this to me. Please, don’t do this to me,” he pleads, his voice hushed and hand sliding up Junmyeon’s thigh.

"I just want to know you.” Junmyeon ignores the hand sliding up his thigh, working between his legs, “Will you tell me your real name?”

Chen shakes his head, shifts onto his side. He’s not trying to coax Junmyeon into arousal anymore, but he leaves his hand there, fingers feather-light, on Junmyeon’s thigh.

"Do you have anyone?” Chen shakes his head, eyes darting somewhere across the room. They find another place when Junmyeon gently pries, “No family?”

It grows silent and Junmyeon doesn’t break it with another question.

 

 

“I made a mistake. I thought this would be easy.”

Baekhyun looks up at him from where he sits (on Junmyeon’s white couch with a glass of red wine). He says nothing and takes a few tentative sips of his wine.

"Not everyone wants to be saved, Myeon. Not everyone needs to be saved,” he begins, breaks to drink more of the wine. “Besides, he doesn’t need saving. Nothing is wrong with working in the Dark District, he’s not being forced to work there.”

As the words sink in, Junmyeon looks out the window, quickly drinks all the wine in his glass and starts for the kitchen to retrieve another bottle. Left behind on the couch, Baekhyun smirks.

“And you’re always saying I’m useless.”

“You’re not useless, you just don’t know when to shut your mouth,” Junmyeon concludes, falling back on the couch opposite of Baekhyun. The wine begins sweet and ends bitter, gives him just enough buzz not to be angry at himself for thinking that Chen would be thrilled by his affections.

Still, Baekhyun smirks.

 

 

New transportation safety regulations are passed. Work is postponed and Junmyeon takes the time to explain how he’d come up with idea for his train to Tao. With stars in his eyes, he listens closely and Junmyeon only notices them when he’s finished.

Afterwards though, the pair read the new regulations through and through and Junmyeon helps the young intern straighten out his pending designs before his own.

"Thank you, boss.” He grins and crosses the room to the small desk, now situated in the corner, against the window.

 

 

Dim violet falls and the door opens; Chen’s thin form slips in quick. After scanning the room, he walks to the bed and nudges under the sheet, joins Junmyeon without a word. Chen gives him a barely there smile, only an upward quirk of the already curled corners of his mouth.

Or at least Junmyeon thinks he sees a smile.

“Chen.”

“Junmyeon,” Chen says, voice quiet and apprehensive.

To comfort him Junmyeon places a hand on his bare ribcage, traces the spaces he finds between them. Chen shivers, tucks his shoulders up to his ears, but doesn’t ask him to stop. He twists when Junmyeon draws his finger up higher, reaching a ticklish place high up on his ribs.

“Stop.” Laughter pierces the word, drags it out, and Chen grins, squirms away from Junmyeon’s tickling touch.

Junmyeon finds more affection in the creases of Chen’s laugh lines and Junmyeon smiles with him. With his face pressed into the pillow, Chen tells him to stop again and he pushes Junmyeon’s hands away, peeking at him.

"Last time I was here, you said you had no family. You shook your head when I asked if you had anyone. But I find that hard to believe.” Chen’s smile falls some and Junmyeon drags his finger just beneath his bottom lip. “Is there anyone you care about?”

The smile returns to the pleasure assistant and he nods. “I have friends. They’re all other workers here though, we talk in the back between our rooms. One of the older workers, Lay, helped me pick out my name, and Xiumin’s, too.”

His eyes raise to Junmyeon’s and he feels Chen’s face heat up beneath his fingertips.

“I don’t normally talk here,” he mumbles, face still warm to the touch.

Holding him still with gentle fingers on his jaw, Junmyeon leans in, kisses him and Chen is quick on the response. He licks into Chen’s mouth slowly, pulls him closer, against him.

They kiss until their jaws are sore, until their lips are kiss bruised and swollen, their hair in all directions from fingers tugging and pulling; they kiss until the light across the room above the other door comes back on. Chen stands and he looks over his shoulder, to Junmyeon, smiling as they both walk for the doors.

The change is so intense that Junmyeon has whiplash, pain shooting down his spine with memories of him.

 

 

With Baekhyun trying to pry details from him, Junmyeon attempts to do his work. In the corner, Tao is cherry red and he giggles when Baekhyun goes on asking if they’d performed lewd acts on one another. For Tao’s sake, not necessarily his own, he answers with a strong denial and Baekhyun glares at him thoughtfully.

“How can you go to a dark room and just lay there?”

Junmyeon frowns, stands to his feet and leans across his desk, hands gripping the edge of it. “We talked, we made out, and then time was up. I just want to know him, I think he’s finally starting to see that I’m serious about this.”

With thoughts of Chen’s smile, his anger melts away and he smiles to the far edge of his desk.

Baekhyun’s smiling at him when he looks up and Junmyeon rolls his eyes.

 

 

He thinks in sounds, the sounds of Chen’s laughter as he tickles up his side, the sound of his own heart beating hard against his sternum. He dreams of bruised lips, stained with glasses of wine, red and blue, purple too.

 

 

Work drags like the stylus over Junmyeon’s and Tao’s tablets. Tracks are laid and designs are made until Junmyeon is tired of making them, seeing them, hearing about them. But it’s required he see pictures of progress, worded updates.

"The progress is coming along well, don’t you think?” Minseok asks and Junmyeon looks up, nods. He notices deep red peeking up from Minseok’s collar; Junmyeon raises a hand, but Minseok continues on talking about the progress, fidgets with his collar.

It’s not there when he looks again and he decides he will to sleep on time tonight, rather than think of Chen half the night. Minseok crosses the room to look over Tao’s shoulder, to congratulate him on the success of his first accepted design. Feline grins are the last thing Junmyeon sees, but he hears Minseok talking about a job offer with Tao as he returns to the written report.

"If Junmyeon gives you a good report at the end of your internship, I’ll consider it.”

Junmyeon looks up; Minseok grins at him and Tao looks at him with hopeful eyes. He doesn’t say anything—can’t say anything—but he smiles.

"Thank you, sir, I’ll try my hardest to please you both.”

 

 

This room is lit with a pretty pink, a contrasting green shines over the door on the other side of the room. Junmyeon lays back on the clean, fresh sheets, patiently waits for the green to dim.

It does soon and the door opens. Chen walks in, takes a look around the room to find Junmyeon. And then his breath becomes heavier, more rushed. He brings his hand to his heart, clutches the stars there in his palm.

"Chen?” Junmyeon stands and starts across the room, but Chen presses himself back against the wall.

"You can’t do this to me. Why are you doing this to me?” He closes his eyes tightly, until his face pinches up. “The money you’re spending, this is all pointless.”

Junmyeon sighs, repeats the same words he’s been telling him, “I want to know you. I want to know you beyond all of this.”

Chen sobs loudly, slides down the wall and hides his face in his knees, arms folded over his head. Standing there stupidly, Junmyeon watches, not knowing how to comfort him.

He sits back on the bed, pained, and when Chen looks up, he only cries harder. But his sobs are dry, his tears don’t come.

"Chen?”

"No.”

When he does stand to his feet, he hurries over to stand between Junmyeon’s legs and Chen guides him into a kiss. Chen climbs into Junmyeon’s lap, pulls him close with arms around his neck. He grins forward until Junmyeon can feel Chen’s erection pressing against his lower belly.

"Please, just fuck me.” He whines, mouthing Junmyeon’s neck with wet lips.

Junmyeon doesn’t give in with words, instead he holds the back of Chen’s neck, brings him in for a kiss. Afterwards, as Chen is starting down the line of buttons on Junmyeon’s shirt, he mouths the soft slopes of the assistant’s shoulders.

Junmyeon helps him by reaching back and clumsily retrieving a condom and a bottle of lube. The condom is left lying by his left hip, but Chen takes the lube from him and coats his own fingers, reaches behind himself and Junmyeon watches intently. Chen leans closer to Junmyeon, braces himself with a hand holding Junmyeon’s shoulders.

His face pinches and Junmyeon tenderly holds his hips, rubs his fingers in circles over the prominent bone. Little slick sounds accompany Chen’s gasps as he adds more fingers and both take Junmyeon’s attention from his comforting caresses.

He’s breathless when he brings his arm from behind his back and he leans forward against Junmyeon.

"Chen,” Junmyeon whispers, turning his head to kiss Chen’s neck. Chen squirms away and he raises up on his knees as he reaches for the condom.

Even with one hand still wet, he quickly tears the wrapper and rolls it down the length of Junmyeon’s dick.

Junmyeon wraps his hands around the assistant’s hips and he gives him a tug, prompting him to move closer. Chen makes an eager little noise, slings his arms over Junmyeon’s shoulders, when Junmyeon pushes his own hips up and the head of his cock presses against his hole.

Chen sinks down.

There’s too much sensation all at once. Junmyeon winds his arms tight around Chen’s waist, keeping him from moving. It’s too hot, too tight. Junmyeon’s breath sticks in his throat.

Before he can greedily suck in another breath, Chen rocks his hips, back and forth as the arms around his waist keep him from doing more. Junmyeon gasps, drops his head to rest on Chen’s shoulder and he hears Chen hum, but his hips don’t still.

"Chen.”

Chen ignores him and impatiently pushes at his arms until he, finally, loosens his hold. Teasing still, he raises up slowly on his knees, his thighs trembling with effort, and Junmyeon waits for him to ride down hard.

But he doesn’t, he sinks down again, just as slow as he had risen. Junmyeon moans at the pleasure curling in his gut, although, it’s not only affecting Junmyeon; Chen whimpers as he settles again and then begins to rise.

"Chen,” Junmyeon says his name with pleading in his voice, and Chen looks up at him.

This time, he does ride down hard and he cries out, holding on to Junmyeon’s shoulders as he does it again and again. Chen swears into Junmyeon’s skin, quieter than a whisper, and Junmyeon agrees in harsh groans. He cries out and goes rigid for a second and Junmyeon can’t understand what he mumbles.

When he dips his head some, he can hear. “There, there.”

Planting his feet firmly on the floor, he leans back some and thrusts up, meets Chen halfway and he revels in the way Chen gasps. Chen leans forward over him, arches his hips down, and presents himself for the next thrusts.

The first thrust shocks Chen, his arm shakes more violently and Junmyeon worries it will give out. However, he steels it in preparation for more and the next time that Junmyeon pushes his hips up, Chen doesn’t tremble.

Chen groans and drags his nails down Junmyeon’s chest, pushes back into the thrusts until he’s breathless.

"Junmyeon,” Chen whispers, voice strained as he pulls tight around Junmyeon. Pleasure thrums hotter under Junmyeon’s skin and he reaches between them and strokes Chen the little he can until Chen is shaking again. Chen slings his arms out around Junmyeon’s neck again, reels him in, and Chen clings to him as he shakes apart.

The light returns, disrupts the lonely pink and Junmyeon helps Chen from his lap, kisses just above his navel before he squirms away.

 

 

The sobs haunt him, like the hand hiding pink dyed stars, and green is all that flashes behind his eyes the next morning when he thinks of Chen.

The bed is cold and empty. It’s far to big for one person and Junmyeon imagines Chen is lying there, face tranquil and swollen with sleep. The green flashes bright again and he winces, promptly stops thinking of Chen and forces himself into one of his neatly pressed suits.

 

 

Baekhyun talks lewdly, as always. In the corner, Tao blushes bright red and avoids looking up at his boss, training his eyes on his work as he makes himself small in the corner.

"Maybe he was faking it, he climbed in your lap later.”

"Didn’t I say I was done speaking about this?” He has lost all patience. And, taking pity, he looks over to Tao. “You may be excused, Tao.”

The flustered intern gathers his things and rushes from the room, thanking Junmyeon quietly. Despite Junmyeon’s warnings, Baekhyun rattles on, attempting to get more details. He only stops when Minseok walks in, looking at the accountant pointedly.

“Can you refrain from scarring our interns, we are hiring, you know?”

The scolding is delivered with a non-threatening smile, but it’s all it takes for Baekhyun.

“I’ll try to behave,” Baekhyun teases, eyes narrowed mischievously.

Oblivious to the innuendo, or perhaps choosing to ignoring it, Minseok chuckles and brushes his fingertips across Baekhyun’s cheek. He preens under the attention, leans into Minseok’s affectionate touch almost getting by unnoticed.

“There’s are some numbers that I need you to run. Can you do them for me now?”

Like an idiot, Baekhyun rises to his feet and reassures him with words and vigorous nodding; Minseok watches him practically stumble out, grinning, half-crooked and gummy. He sighs when Baekhyun’s gone and falls back in the seat Baekhyun had been sitting in.

“I love doing that,” Minseok admits and when Junmyeon pries gently, asking him why, he laughs quiet and restrained. “He’s so head over heels, he doesn’t even notice my feelings. Although, it’s highly inappropriate to even consider a relationship with one of my underlings.”

Junmyeon looks down, his own face heating up at his boss’s words. Without anyone saying anything else, it’s easy to get lost in thought, watching Minseok wrap his fingers tight around his own wrist and press. When his cuff rides up Junmyeon notices that the bruises he’d seen before aren’t there anymore.

The sun sets slow, shines in from the window to Junmyeon’s right and orange and red catches on their skin.

“Have you stopped pining after the pleasure assistant?” His tone doesn’t judge, but his words make Junmyeon frown.

“No, I’m like Baekhyun, stupidly in love no matter what.”

 

 

The next visit is worse than the one before.

Green and yellow light shines on Chen’s skin, but the yellow above his head fades away. He crosses half the room in small steps, but he falls to his knees early, visibly trembling.

"Tell me what I’ve done wrong. What did I do wrong? Why won’t you just fuck me? Why am I being punished? I don’t understand, please, tell me what I did.” Chen sobs, chest heaving with giant, shuddering breaths.

The stars on his heart seem to glimmer in the oddly toned lighting, they capture Junmyeon’s attention. He holds his own breath, unsure of what to say.

Chen kowtows, touches his forehead to the floor just in front of Junmyeon’s toes.

"Tell me, please,” he begs, voice shattered with emotion.

"You’ve done nothing wrong, you’re not being punished.” The words sound old, worn out, coming from his mouth, but he says them anyway, “I’ve told you before, I want to know you beyond the Dark District.”

He reaches down and brushes the tips of his fingers up Chen’s naked back. And Chen sits up, shivers. “I don’t understand.”

Junmyeon reaches out to hold his cheek, but he flinches from the touch, turns his head away. Dejected, Junmyeon drops his hand to his lap.

He doesn’t try to touch Chen after that, he only looks down at his hands. Chen doesn’t move from where he’s kneeling, he stares at Junmyeon’s shoes, occasionally sniffling.

The lemon colored light returns and they both stand. Before leaving, Junmyeon follows Chen to the door. “Will you tell me your name?”

Chen doesn’t answer him, carefully opens the door and disappears behind it.

 

 

"I have two more dates. Only two more chances.” Baekhyun and Tao both look up at him. He glances to both of them, smiles bitterly. Neither smile back, but it’s not fitting for the mood.

Outside, it begins to rain. It hits the window loudly, fills the silence, and Junmyeon watches the drops hit the glass and then roll down. Darker clouds roll in and thunder rumbles low and long. Tao jumps at a loud clap of thunder and retreats across the room to the sofa against the left wall of Junmyeon’s office.

"Maybe, you should give up.” Baekhyun suggests. Unlike other times they spoke of Chen, he’s not prying, not smirking and asking lewd questions; he’s serious, corners of his mouth downturned. Junmyeon watches the rain, let’s the thought settle.

"If it’s that easy, why don’t you give up on Minseok?”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer and when he looks at him, his eyes are focused on his lap, head shaking slowly. “I can’t do that.”

His smile comes easy.

"Nor can I.”

"I’m sorry, that was stupid to even suggest.” He turns in his seat, takes a look at the door as if expecting someone. No one walks in though and Junmyeon returns to his work, still thinking of Chen.

Later, when Tao has taken his break, Baekhyun leans forward, props himself up on Junmyeon’s desk. He says nothing and Junmyeon appreciates that he doesn’t interrupt his work. Leaving his written update, he turns to Baekhyun, brows raised in silent question.

"There’s something else on your mind.”

“It’s nothing, Baek. Just something Chen said to me.”

Reluctantly, Baekhyun stands from his chair and pulls his suit jacket up onto his shoulders, bringing it together at his chest with a button. He leaves Junmyeon to sit with his thoughts, mutters something about Junmyeon needing to brood; it’s all in good nature though, so Junmyeon says nothing.

Thoughts of Chen wrap around his limbs and sink into the marrow of his bones, become a part of him that he’ll never lose.

Work calls for him and he obeys.

 

 

He can only think of Chen. Can only think of what it’s like when he smiles, barely visible in the dark room, when he laughs, says Junmyeon’s name in hushed tones.

He can feel Chen’s breath against his skin, can feel Chen’s touch on his hand, chest, back. Somewhere between flashes of color behind his eyelids, he hears Chen; hears Chen call for him, break down and sob.

The glass that had been in his hand slips, crashes to the floor and shatters. Junmyeon watches the last bit of alcohol spread out between the broken pieces of glass.

It remains there all night, but is gone the next evening.

 

 

The streets are warm, but not suffocating, even with the all the people walking around him. Somehow, walking through the streets of the Dark District is calming. It’s easy to forget worries under the neon lights, in the crowd of people talking in hushed tones.

Maybe, for Junmyeon, it’s the anticipation of seeing Chen flowing through his veins, resting heavy in his heart.

Junmyeon’s not quite sure, he only knows that, as he walks through the streets, the stiffness in his body fades and the panic that set nerves aflame goes with it.

His heart is not as heavy when he’s inside and starting down the hall, reading the numbers on the plaques above the door frames as he goes. Without hesitation, he walks into the room, falls back onto the bed and stares at the room, all dyed in rich cerulean.

The color is dark on Chen’s pale skin and it makes it harder tonight to see his stars. Actually, Junmyeon can’t see them, but he knows where they are, can see them even now. The stars are Chen, the stars calm him, remind him of the tenderness, the openness, Chen had showed him the night he’d explained their meaning.

Chen crosses the room, kneels at Junmyeon’s feet, though it is not like other times; he places cold hands on Junmyeon’s knees. He doesn’t speak lewd words, knows that Junmyeon would only reject them.

Junmyeon reaches down, cradles the back of his head. “Chen.”

Frigid fingertips press to his wrist, but that’s all, they stay there. “Junmyeon. Please, Junmyeon.”

He sits up, reaching for him with his other hand. All over, he’s cold, even the thin shoulder that Junmyeon holds is cold.

"I don’t know what to do, Junmyeon. I only know how to pleasure others. Please, Junmyeon, I feel useless.”

Tears streak his cheeks and Junmyeon lifts his hand to his catch them, rub them away with the pad of his thumb. Their eyes meet, slowly, but they stare at one another; Chen breaks it, he sobs, wraps his fingers fully around Junmyeon’s wrist.

He is overwhelmed by his own emotions and he gives Chen a tug forward, quiets his sobbing with a kiss.

Chen fists his shirt, holds it tight like Junmyeon would back out. He wouldn’t though, not when Chen is pleading him, not when he can feel Chen’s tears on his own cheeks.

"Please.” Chen asks again on his feet now. He doesn’t get in Junmyeon’s lap as he thought, Chen walks around him and lies back on the bed, thighs spread for Junmyeon.

By the bed the lights are vaguely brighter and Junmyeon can see stars; stars that rise with a trembling chest, shaky breaths. In awe, he stays still, looks him over several times, takes him in because it might be one of the last times he sees him.

Chen chokes back a sob and, almost immediately, Junmyeon twists and crawls between his legs.

Though Chen had been cold before, he warms under the other man’s touch, presses into it with little moans that will never leave Junmyeon’s mind.

Junmyeon stands at the side of the bed and finds the lubricant, tosses it onto the bed with a condom, and afterwards he strips his clothes, abandons them at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, please,” the pleasure assistant begs, tugging his cock lazily as he looks Junmyeon over. His breath quickens at the sight of Junmyeon wetting his fingers with the lube. At the first touch of cool and wet between his cheeks, he cries out, overcome by need and want. Short fingers press into the muscles of Junmyeon’s shoulders, as he stretches Chen thoroughly, kisses his neck.

Junmyeon lifts Chen’s legs onto his shoulders and then leans forward and in, slides in to the hilt with one thrust. Chen arches, keens, his nails biting into Junmyeon’s shoulders now.

Before tonight, he had never called out Junmyeon’s name, not even whispered it, but tonight he does; he cries into Junmyeon’s shoulder, holding on tightly when he comes. That’s what has Junmyeon rocking into him a final few times, huffing his name in broken pants.

They lay together afterwards. Chen pulls up a corner of the sheet, wipes at the mess on his stomach and shyly does the same to Junmyeon, not meeting his eyes. He ties off the condom, tosses it into the bin at the side of the bed, but he makes no move to touch Junmyeon.

"Will you tell me your name?”

"My name is Chen, you know that.” He whispers, glancing up for no more than a passing second.

Junmyeon realizes, now, that he is always sighing. “I meant your real name. Just your given name.”

It remains silent, silent for so long that he assumes that Chen’s denying him. Chen raises his head though, looks up with teary eyes. “My name is Jongdae.”

For reasons that are unknown to himself, Junmyeon says his name. He says his name with a smile on his face and says it again, grinning, and then again, leaning in to kiss Chen—Jongdae—again, soft and warm.

Jongdae cries, but he smiles and laughs, and like that first time that Junmyeon had seen him this way, he fits his fingers into the spaces between Jongdae’s ribs, the spaces deeper than they had been before. Training his expression, Junmyeon continues to mindlessly trace the sharp edges of bone of his ribcage and his hip, his shoulder and collarbone.

But Jongdae frowns as if he read Junmyeon’s thoughts, maybe he only managed to find the pain in Junmyeon’s eyes even in the dim light.

"I will only see you one more time. Here, at least.” Junmyeon starts, eyes flickering down to his showing ribs and back to his eyes. “Would you… Would you like to meet me?”

Silence. The smile falls from Jongdae’s lips and he squirms.

"It wouldn’t have to be private. Just meet me. If you truly don’t like me you can order me away and I won’t bother you anymore.”

Junmyeon hopes he gives it some thought, but it mostly looks like he’s trying to fend off a breakdown. Junmyeon swoops forward and kisses Jongdae’s forehead, hand squeezing his hip gently.

It seems to give him courage, “No.”

There is little to say after that, Junmyeon touches the pleasure assistant how he had before, his mind neither here nor there. He presses his palm to the tattoo and, eventually, he rolls over Jongdae, kisses each star until Jongdae whispers that the light has returned.

Scarlet blemishes the perfect blue, but he has to admit that Jongdae looks good under the color.

But, to him, Jongdae looks good under every color.

 

 

"He cried. He really cried, but, even when he did, I wanted him.”

Baekhyun laughs at him, but it’s not cruel or bitter, rather amused.

With the wave of his hand, Junmyeon excuses Tao; the younger stands and bows respectfully, gathers his things and then leaves Junmyeon’s office. Junmyeon finds it easier to speak when the intern isn’t pressed into the corner, turning red at the mention of Jongdae, at the mention of Minseok when Junmyeon teases Baekhyun. (Silently, Junmyeon wonders about him.)

"He told me his true name.” He grins, as does Baekhyun, but it soon falls. “He refused to meet me though. I have one more chance. One more.”

Baekhyun says nothing, but he does lay his hand over Junmyeon’s, squeezes it in a quiet display of affection.

 

 

Panic builds easily and quickly. But the night is dark and the sky of full of stars that bring him comfort, give him hope. Maybe, if he tries hard, he can convince Jongdae that he wants him, not only his body.

 

 

Pink lights steal Junmyeon’s breath. As does the sight of Jongdae walking into the room, lips pulled in a faint smile.

Junmyeon smiles, raises a hand out to him and, when he’s close enough, he holds Jongdae’s hip.

“Jongdae.” He does not say it to the other man, he merely says it into the open air. And he says it again after kissing just above Jongdae’s bellybutton. “Jongdae. Jongdae.”

There are kisses between each call of his name. Jongdae laughs when Junmyeon kisses his ribs, takes Junmyeon’s face in his hands and makes him look up. His smile fades though and Junmyeon draws tracks over his skin with the tip of his finger until Jongdae squirms away, out of his hands.

"Are we…?” Jongdae points to the bedside table, suddenly struck shy, and Junmyeon shakes his head.

He frowns and sits down on the edge of the bed. Junmyeon turns and lays down on his stomach, counts the knobs of Jongdae’s spine until the pleasure assistant turns to him.

"This is the last time I’ll see you. I’m sure you’re happy.”

But Jongdae frowns and he twists to fall forward onto his stomach, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He lies his cheek atop his folded hands, doesn’t give Junmyeon an answer.

If he was patient enough, Junmyeon could count his eyelashes.

However, he isn’t that patient and, though he wants nothing from Jongdae tonight, he pulls the assistant forward and kisses him.

They curl against one another and they kiss.

It doesn’t go past that. Junmyeon’s clothes stay on. They both keep their hands to themselves, although, Jongdae does cradle Junmyeon’s jaw with his cold fingers.

Jongdae doesn’t seem to mind that that is as far as it goes and Junmyeon is perfectly happy holding Jongdae in his chest as they kiss. He wraps an arm around Jongdae and he pulls the young man on top of himself. Jongdae smiles against his mouth, pulls away to chuckle, and then lowers his mouth to Junmyeon’s again, sucking his bottom lip.

After some time off languid kissing, Junmyeon rolls Jongdae beneath himself, worships him with his mouth on the other man’s jaw. On his neck and the sharp rises of his collarbones, the curves of his ears and the soft places under his temples. And Junmyeon gets high off the quiet moans he gets in return, revels in the feel of Jongdae’s fingers combing through his hair, but not pulling once.

Jongdae’s moans turn up sharply, become pitched whines and his hands move from Junmyeon’s hair to his shoulders. "Stop.”

Freezing in place, Junmyeon does stop and he lifts his head from Jongdae’s neck. He waits patiently for an explanation, but he never receives one. Instead, Jongdae holds his cheeks and brings him forward to kiss him very softly, closed-mouthed, on the lips.

“Do… Do you–” Jongdae doesn’t finish, adverts his eyes to the light above the second door. But even from where Junmyeon is hovering him, he can tell that it’s not on yet.

“Go on.”

Shy eyes cast down, Jongdae finally asks, “Do you still want to meet outside of this place?“

Junmyeon nods and the man under him perks up some, glances up with the faintest of smiles. The worry that built thick and heavy in Junmyeon’s stomach turns quickly into the fluttering wings of butterflies.

"Of course I do.”

And Jongdae nods.

 

 

Junmyeon taps his fingers impatiently on the table. He fit himself into the far right corner of the little bakery, cup of tea in hand, keeping him content and (mostly) calm.

It’s five minutes past the time they’d settled on.

He’s starting to think that he won’t show up, maybe he’d changed his mind and decided not to come; Junmyeon makes himself look away from the clock. Instead, he observes the clear sky, gets distracted in counting the windows on the building across the street. He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice someone sitting down across from him until they clear their throat quietly.

He looks over, his own eyes wide, and he takes in curly auburn hair and a kitten’s smile and the world vanishes.


End file.
